Galdane
by Wyldehart
Summary: Galdane is born to a member of the Hunt and a strange near-Highone during a brutal time in the Elves' past. His powers are great and he is misunderstood by the Pack. Can he ever be accepted? Or will madness consume him? **Sex. Violence. You're warned.**


**Galdane**

_**This is an original fanfiction based in the World of Two Moons as created by Wendy and Richard Pini but with my own original characters. The time is around Prey-Pacer's reign but in a different Holt with a different Chief, a daughter of Timmorn's who struck a different path when he chose Rhanee the She-Wolf over her to lead. Neela is a proud member of the Hunt and though the story begins with her, she is merely the vessel, the beginning.**_

_**I warn prudes and the weak that there is sex and violence and disturbing events to come. Galdane is intrinsically a "good" person, as you will see in chapters ahead but the Hunt can be brutal and cruel. Rated "M". **_

Neela Blood-finder curled her lip in a snarl in anticipation of the final rush. The Hunt had just cornered a dangerous black stag with a remarkable set of antlers and were about to pierce his body with their spears. Hers was the only bow in the group but being young and head-strong, she wanted to use her obsidian dagger instead. She lunged ahead of the Hunt-chief, her knife held high in a tightly clenched fist. She howled as she sailed through the air. The stag jerked around to look at her as the Hunt-chief spat out a curse. **Stupid fool!** he open-sent. They had no other chance. They rushed the stag.

Neela landed her blow but it was far from perfect. Perched upon the wildly bucking stag, she dodged his pointed antlers in an attempt to stay in control. Blood flowed from around her hands and the stag managed to pierce her arms several times. She tried to leap out of the way but the stag caught her in mid-jump, his own weapons doing more to her than she had done to him. The boney points pierced her flesh and ripped through her body. She marveled at how little she felt of it as she fell into the snow, a bloody, broken mess.

The rest of the Hunt fell in and took advantage of the stag's distraction to gain the upper hand. Spears ripped through it and then the wolves leapt in to end its long life. One wolf, Windcaller, stayed near the still-breathing corpse of Neela Blood-finder and whined plaintively. The Hunt-chief, Stonetongue, growled at her. **You could have lost us this prize. Instead, you get yourself killed trying to take him down yourself. You deserve this death! Wolves hunt in packs. Alone, they die. As you will die.**

He turned his back on her and waved the rest of the pack on, after they finished securing the stag. It would provide enough meat for the entire tribe for days to come. Some would be dried for the weeks ahead and the skins and bones used for many other things. The White Cold had been fierce this season and the massive amount of food and fur would be welcome. Someone asked if Neela was dead. He said she was and dropped the subject. But Neela, curled in a cocoon of white snow, her wolf whining softly beside her, was not dead yet. Dying, yes, but not dead.

Time passed and she found herself in terrible pain. The wounds were horrific and if she moved, her entrails would spill into the snow. Why was it taking so long to die? She did not even feel terribly weak, just miserable. Stonetongue had robbed her of her chance to end her life on her own by stealing her stone dagger. She hated him. Why Wolfscar had chosen him to lead the hunt, she would never understand. Stoic and brave he was but he was deadly, an elf as dangerous to his own kind as to humans or prey. She tried to convince her wolf-friend to kill her but he didn't understand. She was wounded and he was desperate to help her. After a third and final try, the wolf disappeared and the sun rose.

Great. They were in a region flooded with humans and here she was, afraid to move, unable to move, and out in the open in daylight. Snow was falling heavily, though. Maybe they wouldn't see her? Maybe the snow would bury her and suffocate the stubborn life out of her. Maybe the humans would find her and they would kill her. She sighed hopefully. Either way, it must end soon. She did not know how much longer she could take it. Windcaller, she noted absently, was gone a terribly long time and she was growing colder. Her fingers were numb and her skin was blue. She wanted to die. She begged the Highones over and over to take her life.

Then, she heard something, smelled something strange and yet familiar. She hadn't earned the name, "Blood-finder" for being a bad tracker, after all. She was among the best. A shadow fell upon her. "Windcaller?" The big gray wolf shoved his nose in her face and licked her cold lips as hands touched her shoulders, rolled her over and inspected her wounds. In her blurred vision, she thought she saw an elf with long, black hair and a narrow face. He was touching her skin and had ripped away her leather tunic to gain access to her ruined flesh. His fingers touched the exposed organs as they pulsed wetly in the bright daylight. There was a tingle of magic. He was muttering to himself as he inspected her. "No… point. Already… dead. Help the… worthy," she wheezed.

~*Silence!*~ he snapped hotly in her mind. ~*I will decide if you are dead or not and as you still have a pulse, you are not beyond my reach. Not yet.*~ His Sending was pure, unaltered by the blood of wolves and rang through her mind with unexpected clarity. **H-Highone?** she asked.

He lifted his head and smiled at her. Their eyes met as he disagreed. ~*Not my generation. I was born to those who were born to Highones. So, I am not far from them, anyway. I can claim one as my grandfather, most certainly. Now…*~ He started to focus on the wound again but something powerful drew his gaze back to Neela's eyes.

She couldn't help noticing how blue they were and if she just looked a shade beyond them, she would see… He gasped. "Recognition? Is this happening? To a wolf-child? Repair her, I shall, but I will not lay with her. Disgusting." He placed his fingers upon her forehead and focused those mesmerizing blue eyes upon her own gold ones and whispered, ~*Sleep…*~ deep in her mind. Any angry retorts to him died upon her lips as darkness, swift and bitter, claimed her in that moment.

When she at last came to, she was laying along-side a long, lean male body. They were in a cave and a small fire crackled happily nearby. His cheek was propped up on one hand; his striking blue eyes appraised her carefully. They were both naked, bodies touching and his hand rested upon the curve of her hip. "Wolf-child, your healing was among the most difficult I have ever accomplished but I think you will live."

She rose from the blanket as much as she could in the low-ceilinged cave. She backed away from him, snarling. "Do not touch me! I must return to my pack."

He chuckled, rolled onto his back and rested his head on his folded arms. "Good luck then. The snow falls bitter and thick. Not even your wolf could scent your pack in this mess. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It ensures that we have the time to do what must be done."

She moved to the cave's narrow opening and peered out. Beyond, the snow fell so heavily in the darkness that not even her night-trained eyes could see beyond the veil of blinding white. "What-what are you talking about?"

"Recognition. It happened and something must be done to satisfy it. I think you know what the 'something' is, don't you? I was initially averse to coupling with you but you lack the animal-like ways of your brethren. You still reek of your lupine companions but…"

"First you attempt to entice me to your side and then you insult me all over again as if it is a compliment. The Highones would be mortified if they knew they had one such as you as their descendant." She sat down as far away from him as she could, wincing as she did. The wounds, though healed, were painful.

The tall elf sighed as he picked his way across the floor of the cave to where she sat, leaning against the wall. She eyed him warily but could not help but be attracted to his ethereal beauty. Within her, his soul fluttered like a caged bird, eager to escape and her heart began to pound with him so near. His scent, his body, his soul, it was an intoxicating mix to her, which threatened to make her lose control of herself. She drew her legs up tightly against her, her arms encircling them and her gold eyes narrow slits in the smoky gloom.

The tall elf, "Zerohn" being the name that whispered over and over in her mind, drew ever so closer, an arresting smile curving his thin, handsome lips. "Dalh" he whispered. "Is that your name? The name within you?" he asked. She nodded slowly, afraid to speak. This was a thing the small band of forest elves had only recently discovered. These were soul names. The names of who they were when the world was peeled away, revealing them at their most vulnerable. That he knew this frightened her. He reached out a long finger and trailed it down her cheek. "You're so beautiful…" he murmured softly.

Her thick, wild hair covered much of her face but Zerohn could see her eyes gleaming through the honey-hued mess. His pulse quickened and the hand belonging to the finger he'd touched her with slid down to her shoulder, curling around it. **Come, Dalh… Come Join with me and answer Recognition's call. What I think of your kind has no bearing on who you are. We may never be Lifemates but the child must be made.** The sending, rich and pure, sang within her.

Without knowing what she did or why, Neela rose and followed the handsome elf to where she first awoke. She then allowed him to lay her on her back amid the furs he'd gathered from somewhere. They smelled of humans but were soft and warm against her back. His long black hair pooled around them as he lowered his face to hers, his lips and tongue moving along her jaw and across her arched throat. His large, delicate hand drifted down her body, exploring her beauty and causing her to close her eyes with pleasure. His touch was masterful, gentle and stirred her blood on a level she had never known.

Perhaps it was Recognition. Perhaps it was him. But his kind of lovemaking, the way he moved his hands and used his mouth to please her, showed a diligence none of her lovers in Holt had ever cared to show. Most would have been done by now but Zerohn was barely getting started. He smiled up at her as she gasped with pleasure. Clearly taking his time was something the near-Highone took great pleasure in, as much as receiving it gave to her. She allowed herself to smile then, as he slowly lay down upon his back. "I am yours, my Dalh. Do with me as you will. And don't hesitate to try… anything."

She straddled his long, lean body with her short, muscular thighs. He was longer than the males of the tribe but no wider. He had muscle, hard knots of it that rippled when he moved but he lacked the bulk and bulge of the wolf-blooded males she knew. It was easy to touch him, to trail her short fingers across his pale skin and stroke his flesh with her lips. She explored him thoroughly, licking and tasting the salt-sweet sweat that pearled on his skin as she found hidden ways to please his senses. She was no expert at Joining, her experiences being somewhat limited, but clearly he was not disappointed. His hands reached for her, touching her firm, round breasts, pulling her face closer to his own. She lay atop him, their hair mingling in the dark as the small fire sputtered in the corner of the cave. Their lips and tongues danced and their fingers caressed secret places until they could no longer be fed from the tension they created.

Zarohn carefully turned her onto her back once more and drew her thighs around his narrow hips. He pulled her against him as he entered her body. She gasped. If he was lean everywhere else, there was one place where he was as big as he was tall. It was almost too much but Highones, it felt amazing! He worked his way inside her gently, as if aware of the differences between him and the other males she'd joined with. He smiled above her, his blue eyes gleaming. "Small, fierce, beautiful and passionate… You have forever altered my opinion of the wolf-children, Dalh," he murmured softly above her.

She might have replied but at that moment, her Blood Song rose and consumed her. They embraced together, souls entwined and bodies having no end and no beginning. **YES** they sang over and over in eachother's minds. They became One in that instant and Neela Bloodfinder knew she would never again be the same.

Neela awoke alone with only Windcaller and Zarohn's scent to comfort her. His trail was cold, as if he'd left a long time ago. Her wolf whined and laid his muzzle across his paws. His fur was warm so he'd been inside the cave for a while. She tried to Send to the tall elf she Recognized that previous day but there was no reply. Neela had never been very good at it anyway but she was certain Zarohn could have heard her and he probably did. Silence, however, would be his only reply. Sadly, she knew this was best for them. Last night, she had come dangerously close to falling in love with Zarohn Mindbender but he seemed to understand that it would never have worked out.

Still… She couldn't help missing him as she curled against her wolf and cried with the comforting scent of her Recognized still clinging to her skin and hair. She knew then that she would never see him again.

To be continued.


End file.
